


A Jedi and a whole army

by Gabriel4Sam



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, As Obi-Wan saves some of the clones who died in canon, Blow Jobs, But he is ok he is so much, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, First Time, Fivesome, Fix-It of Sorts, Group Sex, I'm not saying Obi-Wan is trying to sleep with all the interested clones, M/M, Obi-Wan will fight everyone for the clones, Sex Tapes, Shower Sex, Smut, Some Plot, Spitroasting, Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-11 19:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15978923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/pseuds/Gabriel4Sam
Summary: Their Jedi, with his too big heart and his contradictions, who would open his arms to every vod in need of it, in want of it. The clones know there were other people for Obi-Wan before them, but they have every intention to leave him so satisfied he will never think of them again.Or: do I really need an excuse to write Obi-Wan doing his best to sleep with almost the entire army and trying his best to save as many of them as he can?





	1. Obi-Wan Cody Rex Boil Waxer

“His mouth is rather talented, isn’t it?” smiled Cody, caressing Obi-Wan’ shoulders and smiling, seeing his lover taking his brother deeper in his throat.

“He’s got a lot of training after all. It would be a shame to let such pretty mouth empty,” he continued. And his smile grew when he heard Obi-Wan grunting. Once, in a very memorable night, they had made him come in his pants just like that: their beautiful lover sucking them, one after the other, and them praising his mouth and fucking his throat…

It was Obi-Wan who was turned on by the idea of being put to good use, but Cody could confess it: in the few months of this liaison, he had developed an enormous kink to the idea of Obi-Wan and his brothers.

Obi-Wan would open his arms to every willing vod if he could, and Cody would put his fist in the face of the first sentient to call it some derogative name for that. His fist in their face and then his blaster in their guts.

But people didn’t know, and it was easier like that.

His Jedi, with his too big heart and his contradictions, pretending attachment was beneath him and mourning even shinies he had never met. His Jedi naked and beautiful, kneeling and shared between vode, his eyes glazed from desire. They were four vod tonight in the Jedi’s quarters: Rex and Cody, who shared Obi-Wan since almost the beginning, and Boil and Waxer, here for the first time. Obi-Wan made a perfect picture, sucking Boil as if he would die without the hard cock he was worshipping and Cody made some mental notes to ask, in a moment where Obi-Wan’s brain was less disconnected, about holos. That would be perfect for the brothers that were deployed far away.

Rex was busy trailing his fingers on the perfect ass and he had a small laugh when he discovered the trace of a bite.

“When were you deployed with Wolffe?”

“Not Wolffe, it was Thorn, some Coruscant Guard we meet the other day in the Senate. The General escaped the official party for a moment in the Guard’s room.”  And Obi-Wan moaned around his mouthful, prompting a bigger smile from Cody. Those were good memories.

Rex’s fingers began to stretch Obi-Wan open and they could see the shiver of his back muscles, as he shifted to offer Rex a better angle.

On the bed, Waxer moved to see the scene better. He had a well satisfied look, some brightness to him that spoke of spectacular orgasm: Obi-Wan had sucked him first. Cody knew the wonderful shock that a blowjob from that mouth was the first time. There was talent and some long experience in that mouth. Obi-Wan hadn’t talked a lot about past lovers, exercising discretion, but Cody was sure the list had been way longer than his.

It didn’t matter. The vod had every intention to keep Obi-Wan so satisfied, between all of them, that he would never even think of others. Cody tucked himself against Obi-Wan’ side, kissing his shoulder, his flank. He could feel every shiver of pleasure as Rex worked, as Boil lost control and started to fuck their Jedi’s mouth, his hands guiding his head.

He curled lazily his fingers around his Jedi’s half-hard cock. Obi-Wan had come already and needed more time than them between two orgasms. At the beginning, Cody always wanted they wait a little, until his General had thrown him on a bunk, ridden him to orgasm, and then confessed he loved it like that. Orgasms were nice, yes, but there was more to sex than that, and the resonance of his lovers’s pleasure in the Force, for example…

Rex’s cock nuzzled against Obi-Wan’s hole and Cody felt the cock between his fingers harden at the sensation.

“You’re so perfect like that,” he whispered, as his brother took their lover in one hard push.

“Bitten, fucked, possessed.” His grip turned possessive. With a shout, Boil came, grinding his cock deep. Obi-Wan swallowed, eyes closed, years off his face. He looked so peaceful in those moments. As Boil retreated, Obi-Wan braced himself up on his arms on the side of the bed, giving himself to Rex’s thrusts.

“Good?” asked Cody, kissing Obi-Wan’s temple, nuzzling the fair skin

“Force,” the other whispered throatily.

“I will take that as a yes.” He caressed their lover’s cheek and Obi-Wan turned his head to kiss his fingers, sucking on his thumb with gusto. That man had an oral fixation, there was no other explanation possible.

“Not right now, love.” A gaze to the bed. As suspected, Waxer was hard again, palming himself lazily as he observed Obi-Wan getting fucked by the Captain.

“What would you think of demonstrating Waxer how good you take two dicks at the same time? You’ll be so open after Rex, I bet Waxer and I can make you feel nicely full. Nothing to do, just to open for us and to take it…”

Around the fingers, Obi-Wan mewled and it was nothing on the sound that the idea punched out of Waxer.

 


	2. Obi-Wan Cody Wolffe

Obi-Wan was muffling his voice against Wolffe’s neck, panting, mewling, but the sound still resonated in the empty room. Cody was two fingers deep into the Jedi, the red head straddling Wolffe, the pilot’s cock already deep in him and Obi-Wan had after all always be vocal in bed. Or in an empty training room of the Negotiator, like right now, the three of them crowded on a bench. They had plans to go into the Jedi’s quarters, but the only concession they had done to the outside world, after the first kis had been to lock the double doors,

Wolffe was silent but his breathing was deep, harsh, as he struggled for control, as he fought against the fervent desire to fuck him right now and he kissed Obi-Wan’s brow, his cheeks, his lips, sharing lascivious kisses as Cody prepared Obi-Wan for a second cock. They had already made him come once, to be sure he was as relaxed as possible.

“I can feel your fingers, so full.” The Jedi whispered fervently, undulating lightly in Wolffe’s lap. Cody took them out to apply more bacta, Obi-Wan inhaling sharply when they left his body.

“Shhh. You’re gonna get full, I swear. Just a little patience, _cyare”_

From his other hand, he massaged his lover’s back, lavishing his neck with kisses. Wolffe turned his head, capturing the Jedi’s mouth again, and Cody used his distraction to slip another finger into him.

It wasn’t Obi-Wan first time with such significant penetration, but it had been a while, the campaign particularly hard. Every night, almost, there had been one or more troopers in Obi-Wan’s bed, sometimes for sex, sometimes for cuddle, but they never took the risk of something so overwhelming for him in those circumstances.

So, as to hurt him was simply unimaginable, Cody took all his time. When he slipped the fourth fingers, Obi-Wan let an animalistic wail.

“Shhh, shh, don’t wake up the whole ship.” Wolffe pleaded, because if they were interrupted by a brother it was good, he would probably join, but a natural born…

“I promise I will be silent if you just put in m-“ Obi-Wan interrupted himself for a long moan, as the Commander finally sheathed his cock inside his wet heat.

“Oh Force, Force,” Obi-Wan stuttered, not so silent after all.

“I have you,” Cody murmured, “I have you. Just take it, _cyare._ Like that, perfect.”

He could feel Wolffe’s cock against his and if it was almost too much sensation for him, he could only imagine what it was for Obi-Wan stretched around their two girth. He touched the rim of his lover, where it was red and open, stretched for them, and Obi-Wan had a sob.

“Too much?” Wolffe asked, around his teeth gritted to be sure he wouldn’t trust.

“No, no. Just…just a second” Obi-Wan panted, his pronunciation slurring around the letters. Cody kissed him teasingly behind his ear, before slightly biting the lobe, to help him against the sensations of his body accommodating both of them.

“You’re doing beautifully. Take your time.” Another bite, a shiver in answer.

“Kriff,” Wolffre breathed. “Kriff, kriff, kriff, so kriffin tight, cyare.”

Obi-Wan had a wet laugh, kissing Wolffe deeply. Cody latched onto Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulders, sucking bruises that other brothers will have fun to discover when they disrobe their cyare.

Obi-Wan was panting, shivering, a beautiful mess between them, his cock hard again and leaking pre-cum. He kissed Wolffe’s scar, just above his eye, a small gest which could be seem insignificant but was a sign of the tenderness they share. It was hot and animalistic sometimes, raw, carnal….but it was also more than that.

“Oh yes,” someone whispered and Cody realized suddenly it was him.

“Good, good,” Obi-Wan said and he was the first one to move, his mouth opening in a perfect O around a moan that the pleasure made shaking. Cody breathed very carefully. The slow slide of his vod’s length against his own, the erotic moans of their lover, even the scent of bacta and sex and sweat, the panting breaths of Wolffe…everything conspired to make him shoot too soon and he wanted to savour the moment.

After a few movements, they took command, Obi-Wan caught between them, his cock rubbing greedily against Wolffe’s abs. The one-eyed vod bit his lips in ferocious kisses as the fire in them burned hotter every second, the rhythm slowly working up higher, harder.

Obi-Wan had totally forgotten his oath to be silent. Needy whimpers escaped every time he had enough breath, his voice hoarse, and Wolffe and Cody weren’t exactly silent either. The sounds of flesh, the whimpers of pleasure, echoed in the empty room and it was as good as music, because they were alive, alive, they had survived and tonight there was nothing more than mind-blowing pleasure, the grip of Obi-Wan’s body around the two of them, Wolffe and Cody thrusting harder every moment, not pounding as hard as they would have alone, but chasing their pleasure in the Jedi.

Obi-Wan was almost limp, whimpering between them, the stimulation too much, the pleasure robbing him of coherency, sometimes clenching around them after a hard thrust, but most of the time letting them simply do as they wanted, offered to them and to the moment. Wolffe took his mouth in a last kiss and at the same time, touched his cock. He didn’t have time for more: Obi-Wan came hard, yelling in his lover’s mouth. Wolffe grunted, swore, thrusted one last time and came, emptying himself in their Jedi, followed by Cody three seconds after.

Slowly, cautiously, they disengaged. Obi-Wan had a strange gurgling sound when he felt himself leaking, his hole incapable to close so soon after such a penetration, bacta lube and semen running on the bench, on their tights.

“Shh, shh,” Cody whispered, kissing his shoulders again, his red mouth, his eyes.

“Give yourself time. We’re not in a hurry. Everything is good. You’ve been perfect, cyare.”

Wolffe’s arms helped Obi-Wan directly on the floor, using the cape against the cold of said floor and the other two joined him, humming small words of love. Later, they would dress again to search for the comfort of their Jedi’s bunk, but right now, nothing was more important than kisses and the small shivers of pleasure still running along their nerves.

“Good?” Cody asked and Obi-Wan smiled against Wolffe’s shoulder where he had hidden his face.

“Good,” he answered.


	3. Obi-Wan Longshot

Boring.

_Boring!!_

The Negotiator’s infirmary was the most boring place in the world, if somebody asked Longshot’s opinion.

Not that people were, because the infirmary hadn’t been designed for entertainment.

He was still happy to be there, he wasn’t a total idiot. He knew he had been blessed to survive their mission to the Citadel. When he had been electrocuted in that hall, he should have died, he would have died, without their Jedi’ swift action, seizing Longshot with the Force like that. He still had been rendered unconscious and General Kenobi had spent all mission with him thrown on his shoulder, even when that rat Tarkin had remarked it would have been more efficient to abandon him.

The vode had offered to haul him around instead but the truth was that damn Citadel was such a dangerous place only a Jedi had a chance to pull it off.

And Obi-Wan had.

As if the thought of him had summoned him, Obi-Wan opened the curtain that masked the bed, smiling when he saw him awake. It was the middle of the night cycle, but the Jedi knew his troopers, knew his lover, and Longshot was sure he had remembered Longshot's insomnia problem.

Obi-Wan leaned down for a small kiss, sweet and comforting, then kissed his ear and whispered:

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yes. I’m too keyed up for that. But shouldn’t _you_ be sleeping?”

“I have just finished my preliminary report and I wanted to spend a little time with Master Piell. We almost lost him and it is proved that Force Sensitive sense other Force Sensitive standing next to the Bacta tank.”

He kissed him again.

“Two medics are managing the tank: his injuries were that terrible. So, you’ll need to be silent.”

“Silent for what?” Longshot bit his lips around a sound of surprise when his lover kissed his chin, the corner of his lips, his Adam’s apple, then descended on the throat.

“No?”Obi-Wan asked, when he was stopped by the medical gown.

“Kriff yes,” Longshot immediately answered, prompting a small laugh from the other.

“You’re still supposed to take it easy. Hands on the mattress, no cheating. Let me do all the work.”

“Torturer…”

“Only the good kind of tortures, dear heart.”

The medical gown was soon discarded and Obi-Wan got to work. They were still at risk to be interrupted, but the idea to wait for another occasion.... He wanted to see Longshot, to speak with him, to feel him alive in the Force, to pleasure him. When he had seen the electric field passing on the lower half on his lover, he had acted on instinct, yanked with the Force, even if he was sure it was too late already. And now, was the time for reassurance. For both of them.

He knelt on the bed, leaned forward, nuzzling against Longshot’s skin, hooking his hands around his hips, and put a kiss on the cock that was rising to the occasion. He licked the slit with a satisfied sound.

Not all clones were identical down there: the size was roughly the same for all of them, of course, but here too, they loved to express their individuality, let it be in piercings or playing with razors.

Longshot had no tattoo, his hairs were simply cut short without anything fancy, but here…Bare, and it was always fun when he gave Obi-Wan the razor and his trust, and pierced in the foreskin, a very small thing, in the colour of the 212th.

Obi-Wan wanted to purr when Longshot petted his hair, despite his promises to not touch.

How could Longshot resist? The colour was more vivid than usual, the undertones of red more present than usual, because they had had several assignations to desert worlds before that horrible mission to Lola Sayu. He licked the entire shaft a few times, kissed the head and ran his tongue on the slit, then went to play with the piercing, teasing his lover.

“Open for me, _cyare_ ” growled Longshot, as avid as Obi-Wan to reaffirm he was alive, and Obi-Wan made a show from it, his eyes burning as he observed the vod and the effects of his efforts. Longshot fisted his hands in his hair, just shy of hurting, just enough for Obi-Wan too feel it, and he mewled in answer around his mouthful as he let Longshot guide him lower, lower...

“Look at me,” said Longshot, “Stars, the view you make. If you could see…Sucking me off, your lips stretched and those eyes burning…”

His hips rose of the bed despite themselves and he grimaced, the pain of electrocution sill present. Obi-Wan had sensed it and his grip on his hips made itself stronger, keeping them in check.

He worshiped Longshot’s cock, there was no other words for it, using every trick of his very complete catalogue, his tongue, his lips, his throat and his hands would probably leave small bruises on his lover’s hips.

But Longshot was alive, alive, and Obi-Wan expressed his joy at it the only way he let himself. A last time, he took the entire shaft in his throat and he heard the tell-tale groan of his lover. He let go of almost the entire sex, keeping only the head in his mouth, and he swallowed eagerly, letting only the last spurt paint his lips and beard, because that always made the vode crazy to see him marked that way.

“Come here,” Longshot whispered when he could again tell which direction was up, and Obi-Wan obeyed, almost trembling from desire, exhaustion of the last days, and joy.

Longshot opened his pants, despite his protestations that it wasn’t necessary, and pushed his hand inside.

Obi-Wan groaned against his mouth. Longshot wasn’t the only one to suffer from insomnia, but after that, he was sure the two of them would sleep like shinies.

“I want to see you come. That’s it, Obi-Wan, our Jedi, our cyare. Fuck my fist. I want to see you make a mess. Pretty sure the medics will yell at us later, make it count. That’s it, cyare.”

And Obi-Wan whined and came, without thinking of the state of his pants and his tunics. It didn’t matter. Because for another day, this vod, this man he loved, was alive.


	4. Obi-Wan Cody Doom Bacara Stone Gree

It had been very, very difficult to not shoot the Umbaran ambassador right there. More than once, Cody had felt his trigger finger spamming.

There were only Commanders accompanying Obi-Wan on this mission, as a way to make the Umbaran feel more important, but it hadn’t worked, since apparently he didn’t even thought of them sentient. That damn, filthy, low-life idiot had spent the entire evening speaking of the vode as if they were not there, no more than droids, talking about terminating the brothers still in tube on Kamino as a first step in Republic-Separatists negotiation, even if Obi-Wan had shot down the idea, time and time again, colder than space. Cody had seen his fingers, knuckles white, tighten on his lightsaber a few times.

Then, the ambassador had leered, and made one or two remarks about Obi-Wan’s pretty face and mouth and about the way he could help the peace talk… That was then that their lover had sent them back to his quarters, sensing they were nearing the end of their infinite patience.

Cody didn’t think for a second their Jedi would obey to this man, no, he understood Obi-Wan was only trying to protect them against the horrors spilling from that mouth. That didn’t make the time waiting for him easier, the five of them in the sitting room of the Jedi quarters for the time of the negotiations. It was lavish and pompous, everything the Jedi wasn’t and Cody could only imagine the face of Obi-Wan when he would see it for the first time.

“Those peace talks won’t work,” remarked Gree, sombre.

“The General should have listened to me and bombed everything,” Bacara grumbled, as subtle as the Galactic Marine he was.

“I can only imagine the expression of Mundi if you suggest that every time he asks for your advice,” Cody retorted, perhaps a bit brusque.

“Well, he still hasn’t send me guarding representative Binks, so I suppose I am not that awful,” Bacara answered, with a naughty mimic for Stone.

“Oh very funny. Representative Binks is a sentient full of qualities, even if you can’t see them,” Stone, feeling attacked, remarked. He had raided what Cody hadn’t even recognized as a bar and prepared for all the volunteer, Bacara, Doom and himself, some sort of strange cocktails. Playing bodyguards apparently gave all sort of new talents.

“Stop that, you’re not cadets!” Doom barked and Cody himself felt himself chastened. He was still training on Kamino with Alpha-17 when Doom was already serving with Tiplar and Tiplee and he couldn’t stop himself, even now that he outranked him.

The door opened and Obi-Wan entered, white with rage. He almost ran to Cody, who stood up, and fell on his knees, taking his gauntleted hands in his own and kissing them.

“Obi-Wan!” And Cody tried to take them back, akward, but Obi-Wan didn’t relent, kissed them again.

“You’re precious,” he said, “You’re wonderful, all of you. I should have killed this man at the first word, I’m so so-“ he babbled, until Cody put his hand on his cheek to stop the words.

“I know why you didn’t. The peace talks –“

“-those things are not peace talks! Demanding we kill the vode still in their tanks? He can put his exigence where the sun doesn-“

“Obi-Wan!” Cody was appealed. Bacara, him, was laughing his ass off. The Marines clones batches always had had strange humour in Cody’s eyes.

Obi-Wan began to kiss the gauntlets again.

“Ok, stand up, this is too strange.”

Obi-Wan rose, which he appreciated, but put his arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, which he hadn’t anticipated but appreciated too. The kiss was deep and hungry and when Cody broke it to speak, Obi-Wan had a noise of protest and chased his lips for a second. He was trembling in the Commander’s arms. When the second kiss ended, Obi-Wan immediately tried to take down his lover’s armour, starting by the wrong parts.

“Eh, eh,” Cody tempered, “Cyare, I’m not sure-“

“I want to prove you-“

“Terrible reason for sex.”

“I want to let you see-“

“Obi-Wan, calm down.”

Cody exchanged a gaze with Doom. A lot of questions and answers in one gaze. Doom was the only one who hadn’t slept with Obi-Wan, even if Cody had witnessed a lot of flirting, during the trip for the negotiations, then Doom turned and bolted down the door.

“I don’t want that Umbaran,” Obi-Wan finally said, “He’s vile and nefarious in the Force, the idea only would make me weep. Touch me. Take me. Don’t you know I’m yours, I want to be?”

“Ok, ok,” Cody whispered.

His brothers were already putting their armour down. Doom and Bacara went to take the mattress in the bedroom and with it and all the pillows of the numerous couch, they made a nest big enough for all of them. Cody efficiently disrobed Obi-Wan, who wasn’t a great help, too busy marking his neck, and then tumbled him into the nest, right into Stone’s arms.

The shocktrooper took his mouth in a hard kiss and Obi-Wan mewled and finally stopped trembling. As Cody attacked his own armour, Gree joined them, lube in hand and started to kiss a long trail on Obi-Wan’s back.

“You’re with us,” he said, “Think of nothing but us. We’re gonna give you what you need.” And he ended the trail of kisses with a bite on his hips, making Obi-Wan moan.

“Just let us love you”, Stone added, before pushing him on his back, kissing the side of his neck, worrying his shoulder between his teeth. Cody stole one of the cocktail and sat down to admire, still in his blacks. There were too much of them to touch him at the same time and he liked to watch him get overwhelmed. He saw that Doom was sitting on the edge of the mattress, sipping his own drink and observing too with keen eyes.

As Gree prepared Obi-Wan efficiently, perhaps quicker than Cody himself liked to do it, Bacara and Stone kissed their way up and down his entire body, letting so much marks that tomorrow, the Jedi would looked as if he had fallen into the nest of some monster with tentacles and suckers. Obi-Wan was panting already, whispering small words that reeked of attachment. Cody sat closer and took his hand, keeping only that point of contact between them as his brothers wrecked his General.

Gree sat back on his haunches and looked at Cody, who said:

“Doom, do you want to do us the honour….” Because it seemed fitting, as Doom had never had Obi-Wan before. Obi-Wan took one of his legs in his hand, opening himself more when Doom knelt between them, the other still linked to Cody’s own.

“You’re perfect,” Doom praised and Obi-Wan had a happy smile, and a hiss of pleasure as his new lover pressed into him.

“Perfect,” Doom repeated, before kissing him eagerly once he was seated entirely into his body, rubbing his side until Obi-Wan pushed back against him, definitively ready for more. Doom searched for a rhythm a moment, then started to thrust hard and deep, and Obi-Wan mewled and begged every time his new lover slammed to the hilt. Like all the clones he had ever taken to bed, as Doom fucked him again and again, Obi-Wan had the sensation to be a lock suddenly fitted with a perfect key. Like he had been made for those men. His thoughts derailed on a particular hard thrust and a first shout escaped his lips.

“Do you want us to make you come right now?” Cody asked, kissing his knuckles at the same time Gree leaned down to suck another mark on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“No, no. From your cocks, please,” he almost sobbed. That vile, horrible, insulting sentient couldn’t have him. The vode…the wonderful, warm, courageous, smart vode, every one of them could have him if they wanted, but them only. If he could prove them….He whined when Gree bit harder. He would be marked the day after, all over, and the idea made him groan again.

Cody misunderstood the groan and took it for a protestation that Obi-Wan could really come only from penetration.

“Shh, shh. Yes, of course. Just take it, I know you can do it. Fill you up good, all of us.”

Doom hadn’t the endurance of vode more used to sex with Obi-Wan: he slammed into him one last time and came, muffling a last groan against Obi-Wan’s mouth. When he had disengaged, Gree took his place, simply threw one of the Jedi leg on his shoulder, pressed against him slowly. Obi-Wan swore, his hand pressing on Cody’s.

“Too much?” Cody asked immediately.

“No, no, perfect.” Then he gurgled something without consonants as Gree started to rut into him needily. He used him hard and Obi-Wan’s gaze lost his usual sharpness as pleasure erased everything, even words, letting only sensations and that thing he felt for them and never named. When Gree came, Stone took his place and the sensation of that third cock piercing him, the wet noise it made as he pushed into the Jedi already full of sperm and lube, tore the first orgasm of the night of Obi-Wan, his mouth opened around a half shout. Stone leaned down and took his mouth in a filthy kiss, as Cody felt in the hand in his own every tremor of pleasure shaking the Jedi.

Perhaps the vode had been more affected by the afternoon than they thought. Most of the time, they wouldn’t have let Obi-Wan take so many of them in one night, especially high on pleasure as he was, lost to lust, but they needed to reaffirm that he was theirs, natural born or not, their Jedi, their cyare. They always used some lube infused with Bacta and Cody took a mental note to comm the medic in the morning, to ask him to examine Obi-Wan before the start of those things pretending to be negotiations.

The Jedi had been put all fours, and Stone had taken Bacara’s place, pounding into him. Cody touched his cheek, his lips, and Obi-Wan’s tongue came to lick them. He had wanted to wait, to be the last one to fuck him, but good plans should always be ready for change…and he always had more than one orgasm in him, not matter how tired he was, when it was with Obi-Wan. He opened his black and directed his cock to that seductive mouth, groaning helplessly at the first touch of the tongue. He thrusted slowly first, to test if Obi-Wan was ready, or too lost to pleasure and in risk of choking.

“Cyare,” He marvelled, as always surprised by how perfect it was, and blue eyes opened to peer up at him.

“Our good cyare,” he said, using his lover praise kink, “our perfect, perfect cyare. You’re gonna be so full. Doom is already hard again. He should have a taste of your mouth, too. Feel how good you are at cock sucking. And he still hasn’t see how beautiful you are when we come on you.”

He wasn’t sure the words weren’t more for his brothers and himself than Obi-Wan: he could see in his eyes how high his lover was. He groaned when the red head started to suck him.

That Umbaran could sneer at them all he wanted, he could think the world resolved around him and feel himself superior because he was a natural born. No one of them cared in that moment, because they were the one loved and chosen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would find logical that, except in the 212th, Obi-Wan would meet more officers than soldiers, no? So, logicaly, the percentage of Commanders in his lovers is higher than the percentage of Commanders in the GAR.


	5. Obi-Wan Dogma

Dogma had never meet General Kenobi.

He knew of him, of course. In the two ways that sentence could be interpreted.

He knew of the General, the Jedi, the man who commanded the Third Army, the Negotiator, the half of the Team, the face of the Jedi, the Strategist of the High Council, the man who taken back planets just under Dooku’s nose, one of the few Jedi Grievious feared to fight…He had seen holos of him fighting, or giving motivational speeches.

He knew of Obi-Wan, the secret of the vode, the man who loved them. He had seen holos of him, the holos that were only for the vode and should be kept secrets from the natural borns, because Obi-Wan was the vode’s, only, because nobody else could have him.

Technically, he had never really seen the holos the way they were intended: as a way to share Obi-Wan with as many of them as they could, since it wasn’t possible for him to meet every vod, to see if that spark came between them. There was only one Obi-Wan and a lot of brothers. Dogma knew he could watch the holos if he wanted. He knew Obi-Wan had consented to every vod who wanted watching them and sometimes, he had caught a few minutes of them in the barracks, Obi-Wan yielding under one, or more, vode, but he had never collected them like so many brothers, never really listened to discussions about their favourite holovids.

Then, he had killed Pong Krell and been arrested for it. To learn he was sent back to Kamino for decommission wasn’t a surprise.

“I won’t let it happen!” Rex had promised but Dogma hadn’t believed his Captain could really do anything about it.

Rex had spoken to Skywalker, who had spoken to the Chancellor.

“He’s so sorry,” General Skywalker had reported back, his face closed, “He said, he said he would, if he could, he said his hands are tied by the rules of the Republic. If only politics didn’t bind him so much.”

Rex and Dogma had saluted his retreating back, then Rex had cursed, some words Dogma had never heard.

“This is not…” and he had stormed out. Dogma would learn later that the good Captain had stormed out to contact Cody and his own General, busy on the other side of the Republic, but at the time, it had really made him think he was done.

Three days later, General Kenobi had descended on the prisoner transport like the anger of the gods, delivered enough scathing remarks that the natural borns officers had finally shut up and taken Dogma back with him.

“But you can’t….” Some Senatorial aid had protested later on the comm’.

“I need an aide-de-camp,” Kenobi had said, and the Jedi had closed ranks behind their Councillor and, inexplicably, it had stayed like that. Dogma had painted his armour in the 212th colours and learnt the job of a good aide-de-camp, a job that in good part consisted in running interferences with idiots, to be sure the General had the time to do his damn job.

The rumour mills was that Kenobi had chewed out Skywalker for not doing that himself, and Skywalker had protested “But the Chancellor…” and they weren’t on speaking terms anymore, since Kenobi’s answer had been “The Chancellor can get kriffed by a Rancor for all I care!”

Dogma had stayed as an aide-de-camp.

Kenobi was…Kenobi was everything Krell hadn’t been. He was compassionate and warm with the vode, he was always fighting so hard to preserve their lives, he was funny in the down time, and as cold as the void of space with natural borns who talked down to the clones.

He knew Kenobi was getting kriffed by a lot of the 212th in a regular basis and by other in conjoined missions, but he never saw anything. When he had to wake up his commanding officer in the night cycle, everybody was always decent before Kenobi let him enter his quarters.

The GAR was full of stories of brothers walking on Kenobi and one, or more, clones, and joining, and Dogma, who spent a lot of time with him, had never even seen his naked arms!

“He knows it makes you uncomfortable and he wants to save you from any awkwardness about things you don’t want to see,” Commander Cody had explained, one day Dogma had questioned him.

The truth was, with every month that passed, the idea made Dogma less uncomfortable. Where Krell had been a power of destruction for the clones, Kenobi was a force of protection. Where Krell had been a fire trying to burn them alive, Kenobi was trying so hard to be a flame that would warm them.

It was unavoidable Dogma became curious.

One day, six months after Umbara, the General busy in the Senate, Dogma asked a brother for his favourite holos and sat down with a few of them.

He was hard halfway to the first one, where Obi-Wan was getting fucked in every position possible by Commander Bacara. He came twice to the one where the General was bend over a console by Rex, Cody seating nearby and giving them orders, once more to the one where the entire Wolffe’s pack shared him…He couldn’t get it up anymore after that, but he watched all of them. The one where the General knelt naked and sucked successively five brothers. The one where Cody handcuffed him to the command chair of the Negotiator. The one in the communal shower. The one when a brother had procured some sex toy mimicking some aliens genitals. Every one of the holovids his brothers had lend him.

It was different in every one of them. Different for every clone, the General resonating differently with every one of them, sometimes tenderer, sometimes bordering animalistic.

And Dogma had wanted, wanted so much.

Later, when he had been alone, working on datapads with the General, he had stammered something so convoluted the Jedi hadn’t understood first, to Dogma’s mortifications. But he had tried again and he didn't regret it.

Because it had led him to that moment.

Sitting on the Jedi’s bunk against a mountain of pillow, said Jedi across his lap, his back to Dogma’s chest and the vod’s cock deep inside him. Obi-Wan’s head keep rolling back across Dogma’s shoulder every time he found his prostate and Dogma could feel his cock twitch in his gasp in rhythm with his thrusts. It was slow, sometimes hesitant, rhythm still unequal. Obi-Wan purred for him, deliciously responsive, never trying to quicken Dogma’s rhythm, simply happy to be with him in that moment.

It was perfect, like they had been made for that.

Yes, Dogma knew about General Kenobi. About his multiple facets, about his efficiency in the field and his voice when he begged.

He knew the General would do everything for them.

And more importantly, he knew the secret that Obi-Wan Kenobi himself hadn’t understood yet.

He knew that he loved them.


	6. Obi-Wan Cody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had some hours to work on my SW Rare pair fic but instead my brain went "CodyWan shower sex!!!!!"

 

 

It was the small sound of the door that woke Obi-Wan up. In the dark, he guessed more than he saw the silhouette. The other didn’t light the room but Obi-Wan didn’t need light to recognize Cody: every clone was different in the Force and he knew the feel of every one of his lovers. Cody went directly to the fresher attached to the room, probably using the night vision of his helmet.

After a second of hesitation, Obi-Wan slowly disengaged from the bodies attached to his own. A voice grumbled and he kissed lightly a shoulder, slipped from the arm that tried to keep him.

“Shh, sleep,” he whispered, then he walked, as naked as the day he was born, to the fresher.

“Eh,” Cody said, busy with his armour. He looked exhausted but he still had a smile for Obi-Wan.

“Welcome on the Negotiator,” Obi-Wan answered, closing the fresher door behind him, and he kissed lightly his lips before helping him with the armour.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I just didn’t want a cold bunk right now. That’s why I left the surface instead of sleeping in the barracks.”

“Shh, you were right to come here. Do you want a shower?”

“Kriff, yes.”

Obi-Wan adjusted the control until steam was rising, then guided Cody under the spray. The Commander yawned.

“S’rry.”

“Shh. Not a problem. Just try to stay vertical.”

He lathered his lover’s body in soap, slowly, working the muscles of the shoulders, of the arms. Cody needed sleep, but Obi-Wan knew him; if he went to bed with so much tension, he would just turn and turn and turn without finding sleep, and suffer from a headache for the next day, or until Obi-Wan convinced him to let him help with Force Healing.

He made him turn and slowly worked his back, his ass, pushing his thumbs into tight muscles and using with small sparks of the Force to help the tensions disappear. Cody didn’t speak, only groaned heavily every time Obi-Wan attacked another painful muscle. Obi-Wan’s hands knew him so well. The warm water and the steam created a bubble, for a moment he could have thought they were the only ones existing in the universe. Obi-Wan knelt, lathered in soap bubbles Cody’s legs, his feet, no part of him neglected. It seemed like the warmth of the moment was seeping into every bones of Cody.

He couldn’t say how long they stayed there, Obi-Wan patiently working tension out of him, but it felt like it was a life in itself.

The Jedi took the shampoo bottle and rubbed his hair, more soothing massage than shampoo, then carefully directed the water to rinse them.

“Better?” Obi-Wan asked and Cody smiled, a little groggily. Against his belly, his cock was hard, not totally but a valiant effort, the proximity and the hands on him fighting with his exhaustion. Obi-Wan caressed it and Cody bit his lips.

“What do you need, dear heart?”

“Your mouth…” Cody decided because in the warm parenthesis of safety that water made around them, he couldn’t imagine anything better that this beautiful, sweet, mouth wrapping itself around his cock.

“Turn around for me,” Obi-Wan asked, and Cody obeyed, leaning down against the shower wall. The Jedi knelt again and Cody saw that his cock was only half hard. He remarked Cody’s gaze.

“Yes, your brother were thorough, I don’t even know how many times I came... I fear that it will stay that way until next morning, I’m not so young anymore.”

“You’re perfect,” Cody said and Obi-Wan smiled, happy and free like he never was in public.

He embraced Cody, arms around his hips, kissing his belly and Cody let his head against the wall with a sigh. He moaned softly as the Jedi caressed his buttocks, licking the head of his cock. Cody tangled his fingers in the red hair, whose colour had darkened with the water and closed his eyes when those lips took his cock, slowly descending on the shaft. His hips bucked forward, control difficult with this level of exhaustion, but Obi-Wan simply opened his throat, moaning around the hard cock. Cody whimpered, lust overcoming him.

What had he done to deserve that man? That beautiful, fire touched man with his strange powers and his big heart, that man who fought with them, for them, and opened his arms to every brother who wanted.

“Cyare,” he murmured, “our cyare, our beautiful Jedi, our heart,” and Obi-Wan moaned again. One hand came to play with Cody’s balls and Obi-Wan closed his eyes and swallowed all of Cody’s cock easily. He had already known how to take a lover so deep in his throat before the vode but never before them had he adored the intimacy of the act.

Never before the vode had sex been so good it robbed him of everything but the moment.

It couldn’t last long, not in that perfect moment. Cody’s hips escaped his control again, he used his grip on the hair to direct that sweet mouth and soon, he was coming. Obi-Wan swallowed everything, suddenly greedy for it, then let Cody go and opened his mouth, letting him see his empty mouth.

Cody groaned.

“I swear, some days there is more sperm than tea in your stomach.” And Obi-Wan couldn’t stop a giggle, probably inappropriate.

They towelled each other, exchanging small kisses and Cody was yawning every ten seconds. Now, he would sleep without problems.

Obi-Wan guided him in the dark to the large bunk, installed in secret by one of the mechanic vode, with its hooks and hidden compartments.

In their sleep, the other shifted without even realizing it, as usual as it was to sleep in pile, and Cody and Obi-Wan slipped in the middle. Cody had a very satisfied sigh once he was horizontal, surrounded by his brothers, Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder. Someone grumbled, rolled over to put his head on Obi-wan’s legs. In the dark, Cody searched for one of Obi-Wan’s hands and put a kiss on the back of it, then he let sleep claim him.


	7. Obi-Wan Cody Wooley Longshot Boil Waxer and almost all Ghost Company !

 

 

It was the kaddour electri-pump that caused the problem, Obi-Wan had told Anakin during their holoconversation.

It was very probable he had butchered the name of the damn thing, but it was understandable, since Obi-Wan had no idea what the thing was supposed to do in the motors, why it had stopped working and how to correct the problems.

He only knew they were stranded and in need of a lift, which Anakin promised to give them.

“Only thirty hours, Master, and we’ll be there and rescue you.”

“Rescue is such a strong word,” Obi-Wan had said immediately and Anakin had smiled, the transmission softening the traces of stress on his face.

“Nope, that counts, sorry Master.”

Obi-Wan had grumbled but what could he say? Rescue seemed a strong term because stranded on a forest moon, far away from the front lines, with sufficient equipment and a bunch of his lovers, didn’t seem like a situation he needed to be rescued from, but it was true that without a lift, they would stay there until they were old and grey.

The clones had prepared a camp, hunted some large mammals and build fires while the day passed, and Obi-Wan had meditated all he could on their suggestion, seated directly on the stranded chip, losing himself in the Force, shedding his doubts, his questions, his struggles and listening to Its music. Far away from any inhabited planets, with just the clones and himself as sentients around, the Force was clearer, lighter that he had found It for years. When the time for dinner came, he felt refreshed like only the Force could offer and he hopped of the ship and went closer to the fires.

“Come here,” Cody called, sitting next to one of the fires and Obi-Wan went to him. The commander was only in his black, like most of the clones, only the poor brothers who had drawn sentinel duty on the borders of the camps keeping the full armour.

“Here,” one of the vode said, trusting a canteen in Obi-Wan’s hands. The Jedi took a sip. The moonshine had been watered down, not exactly in their habits.

“We have rarely down time like that,” the brother answered the unasked question, “It would be sad to remember nothing, eh?” There was definitely something salacious in his smile and Obi-Wan felt heat rising, suddenly realizing he had thirty hours alone with his men, most of them his lovers, and the knowledge they wouldn’t be interrupted. He blushed violently, as his brain immediate tried to conjure ideas of what they hoped, for which they needed Obi-Wan capable of consent.

He wanted to seat next to Cody, but the Commander took his hand and guided him until he was seating against him, his back against Cody’s torso. It felt strange to be so open outside of closed quarters, to let Cody touch him under the stars.

Strange, but very nice.

After days of ration, the stew made from the local animals was pleasant, filling, and with the moonshine, even watered down, it made for a good meal. Around them, brothers sang and laugh and narrated highly improbable stories. Obi-Wan soaked up their happiness like a sponge, open in the Force, his shield low as he was in such trusted company. Cody’s hand was caressing his thigh, a little higher as time passed, and Obi-Wan felt like he could have stayed here all his life.

The vode sang, some of the songs soldiers songs, licentious and explicit, some nostalgic, calling for a home that would never be the same again. Obi-Wan felt the guilt rise, never far away. Would those men ever know the warmth of a home? What was the Republic and the Jedi doing?

Like he had read his mind, Cody bit the lobe of his ear, stopping instantly his thoughts on their path.

“Stop that,” the Commander chided gently, “Stop that, cyare. For tonight, we sing, we laugh. Tonight, we’re perfectly happy and we celebrate what we have.”

“And what do you have?” Obi-Wan asked sadly.

“The night sky and the stars, the fires and our brothers,” Cody immediately answered, and he put his hand directly on Obi-Wan’s sex, cupping him through the pants, making Obi-Wan hiss “and you,” Cody added, possessive.

Cody kissed his Jedi behind the ear, and asked:

“Do we have you, cyare? Are you ours?”

There were some layers to that question, Obi-Wan understood, but it didn’t matter, because there was only one answer to that.

“Yes, I am,” the Jedi said, and he received another kiss behind his ear as a reward for his answer.

Cody didn’t press for more, not in that instant. They stayed like that, watching the fire, drinking and listening to the song. Cody’s hand stayed on his sex, cupping it, lightly pressing on it sometimes, but he never took it out of Obi-Wan’s pants. The Jedi was soon hard and he could feel against his back that he wasn’t the only one, but he never protested, let Cody impose the rhythm.

A vod passed next to them, offered them a refresh in drinks for the two of them and a deep kiss for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan sighted in it, opening his mouth at the first incitation, and finding the taste of moonshine on his tongue. Cody pressed a little harder on his sex and Obi-Wan was almost panting when he sat back against Cody.

“You’re so hot like that,” Cody whispered against his neck.

“Kissing?”

“Ours,” was the answer and Obi-Wan shivered to his tone. There had never been even a whisper of jealousy between the vode and Obi-Wan adored that and the gazes of some of his lovers when he yielded under another of them, added some delicious frissons. Cody started to massage his sex and that was the most pleasant torture. Too slow, too light to really bring him to orgasm, but right now, under the stars, in the full view of everyone, it seemed scandalous and perfect. Obi-Wan abandoned his head on Cody’s shoulder, caressing the other man’s knee in the same rhythm Cody had on his cock, decided to let him choose where the evening would take them.

He could feel some of the other gazes. He opened his eyes and watched them, and yes, of the clones of Ghost Company who were on that moon right now, the only ones who weren’t interested in having Obi-Wan were on guard duty, far away enough from the fires. Obi-Wan chuckled despite himself. He turned lightly and kissed Cody. At the beginning it was sweet and light, then soon it turned hungrier, Cody taking control of the kiss and conquering his lover’s mouth, prompting a first whimper from Obi-Wan. Cody then kissed a long line of half bites half kisses, from his throat to his ear, where he whispered:

“There is a bunk in the shuttle. Or there is there. The light of the fire. Where everybody could see. The others vode. The whole galaxy.”

An excited spark ran down every nerve of Obi-Wan. Just Cody and the bunk or….here. He wasn’t naïve, the question was more: Here, and the other? Obi-Wan set aside lust for a second, pull back a little to watch Cody, and then turned to watch the other clones around them. He had shared his bunk with all of them, but never at the same time, never more than a few of them. How many clones right now around the fire? Their lust resonated in the Force but there was no greed, no aggressiveness, only possessiveness, desire, and that feeling Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to name.

“Here,” he said and something chimed in the Force that he didn’t understand, like a laugh, like a signal.

Cody was already kissing him again and the Jedi forgot about the rest. Cody pushed him against his torso again and opened Obi-Wan’s pants, pushing his hand inside. He guided his legs, opening them wider, putting him on display. There was something strange, Obi-Wan thought, about being totally clothed with his dick out, it was like being even more naked than naked!

Cody was mauling his neck, leaving marks that would need a dermal regenerator the next morning, and Obi-Wan was panting like an animal into mating season. Longshot touched his knee, showing him the holorecorder in his hand.

“Kriff, yes,” Obi-Wan answered and Longshot kissed him in reward, before going to set up the system. There was some cheer as someone opened another jug of moonshine and vode passed it around.

For Obi-Wan, pleasure was like a wave, cresting way higher that a simple handjob should, and it wasn’t long before he succumbed. Somewhere, a brother whistled and Obi-Wan had never felt so hot, here, a too tired Jedi that never should have achieved Knighthood, who had never been chosen, let it be by Qui-Gon or Anakin. In that moment, he felt in his place, chosen, cherished. When Cody presented his fingers covered in Obi-Wan’s cum, the Jedi took them and cleaned them, his tongue thorough, and when Cody pushed two fingers in his mouth after, he sucked on them with hunger. Someone swore and there were more than one pair of hand disrobing him.

The vode tipped him over in a makeshift bed and Cody was here again, naked against Obi-Wan, fucking his mouth with his tongue, and a finger already exploring him. There was that strange tingle that only came with bacta and Obi-Wan broke the kiss to protest because that stuff was terribly expansive and normal lube would be enough, he wasn’t fragile! Cody kissed his nose and answered without the question being asked, like he was doing more and more as they understood each other better.

“You’ll need it,” he said, and Obi-Wan struggled around a sudden need to whimper. Wooley sat down next to them, his black half peeled of him, and leaned down for a long kiss, which Obi-Wan received with pleasure. Boil and Waxer, half empty canteen in hands, were observing the proceeding with interest, as the hard lines of their cock in their blacks proved, but they didn’t seem ready to quicken the process, when Obi-Wan would have wanted to be already impaled by one of their cocks or perhaps to have something in his mouth, just to wait. Whatever protestations, and affirmations that he was ready, Cody prepared him more carefully than ever and Obi-Wan was dripping pre-cum and half hard again by the time he was deemed ready.

“You’re a tease,” he accused, but the last word was deformed by a yelp because Wooley had bitten his shoulder.

“That’s not a way to ask to get kriffed, cyare…” Wooley said, before biting again, less hard, but almost as pleasant for an Obi-Wan who liked being marked almost as much as they loved to mark him.

Cody laughed between Obi-Wan’s legs, where he was busy covering his cock in the bacta infused lube.

“If you have the will to make him beg for more than the time necessary to be sure he’s ready, you’re made of harder stuff than myself, brother,” Cody said and he pressed into Obi-Wan, the head of his cock opening the muscles and the Jedi hissed out something entirely made of vowels at the sensation. Cody took his lips in a kiss and started to move, savouring the wet heat around his cock and the delicious noises Obi-Wan made every time he bottomed out. Around them, he heard flesh noises and encouragements, as brothers watched him kriff their lover, some of them touching themselves, some of them only watching for now.

Cody groaned helplessly as Obi-Wan presented his throat and he kissed and nibbled everywhere, adding marks to the ones left by Wooley. Obi-Wan was never more beautiful than covered in the marks they left on him, bitten and possessed and cherished.

“So kriffin tight,” he groaned, “So kriffin tight and so kriffin ours,” and he gave another powerful trust, pushing a wail out of Obi-Wan’s mouth. He chased his pleasure into the offered body, rocking deep inside, until it was too much and he was coming, filling a moaning Obi-Wan. After a last kiss, he rolled over, accepted a canteen of water from a brother.

Between Obi-Wan’s legs, Wooley had already taken Cody’s place and Obi-Wan drawn him in, a long leg around his hips, arching in the makeshift bed, until Wooley pushed into him, then leaned up to kiss him. Cody admired as Wooley took their lover hard, Obi-Wan’s legs thrown on his shoulders. Another brother, kneeling next to them and fisting his own cock with abandon, swore and came, painting the Jedi torso and the corner of his mouth. The brother trailed his finger in the cum and offered it to Obi-Wan, who was panting, hard again, and mewling every time Wooley’s dick pushed against his prostate.

After Wooley, Obi-Wan crawled upon Boil’s lap and rode him hard, as Boil loved, kissing until their lips were tingling, panting into each other mouth, Longshot behind Obi-Wan, lazily pushing his cock against his ass, his arm around the Jedi to palm his cock. Obi-Wan could see the little green light of the holorecorder and the idea that all vode who wanted could watch him later, could watch them, made him come even harder the second time.

Obi-Wan lost a little the particulars of the storyline after that. He was on all fours, vode filling him from both sides. He was on his side, a cock deep in him, and another of his lover came on his face and he heard grunts all around as the visual pushed other into orgasms. A warm cloth cleaned his beard, just in time for another hard cock to rub itself against his lips and he opened his mouth. At the same time, a warm mouth sucked him skilfully and it was almost too much, but they knew him well and a third orgasm was torn out of him easily, then Cody pushed him onto his belly and took him again, so hard he felt his eyes roll back.

Someone came on his back and he was pretty sure standing would be complicated the next day, and then hands were rolling him unto his back and when another brother entered him, whispering words of adoration against the skin of his throat, he came dry, without a hand on his cock.

He had lost count and it didn’t matter. Without the bacta, he would probably have injured himself and it wouldn’t even have been enough of those wonderful men. Under the night sky, he opened his arms again and he let go, safe and cherished.


	8. Obi-Wan  Odd Ball

The V-19 Torrent Interceptor was a beautiful beast. After months piloting a Republic attack gunship, Odd Ball was feeling giddy, and as proud as a new father at the idea to take that beauty into battle. He would make good use of the two lasers canons and the concussion missiles launchers against the Seppie, and made his brothers proud.

His brothers and his lover.

For now, the cockpit's sliding canopy was open and said lover was trying to not laugh. Around them, the hangar was dark and empty, but it was still better to be the most silent possible, in case some brothers, or worse some natural born, had an insomnia and had go for a walk despite the very late hour.

“No, no, put your foot here,” Obi-Wan insisted, wiggling against Odd Ball, and another movement of the pilot, brushing against his side, had him stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle a giggle. They had crushed the enemy in the last skirmish, with no more casualties than a sprained ankle for a shiny, Anakin was surprisingly in a good mood and it was almost three weeks since the Senate had tried to force the Order’s hand with some stupid idea. Obi-Wan hadn’t been in such a good mood for months, perhaps even years.

The cockpit really wasn’t made for two person, even with one on the other lap, like Obi-Wan was right now; but it wasn’t a problem since they had no intention to close it.

“Like that,” Odd Ball guided, “no, don’t push here, it’s the handbrake lever.”

“Those things are really too tight,” Obi-Wan remarked, ignoring with some dishonesty that those things, as he said, really weren’t designed for that.

But suddenly, they turned just the right way, like two puzzles pieces presented on the appropriate side, and he forgot the cramped quarters, as the arms of Odd Ball pressed him against the clone and as his lover stole his last words right on his lips. He moaned in response, opening his mouth wider to invite the other tongue for a more thorough exploration. He was straddling Odd Ball and he could feel the hardness of the other man’s cock. A shiver ran down his spine, igniting his blood.

His good mood shifted, passing from amusement to desire as he clung to the large shoulders, searching for the seams of the black. Odd Ball was licking his throat when Obi-Wan succeed, peeling with some difficulties the black as low as he could. Obi-Wan himself was wearing only his inner tunic and his leggings, as he was readying himself for bed when he had received on his comm Odd Ball’s invitation to admire his new fighter.

Odd Ball slipped his hand under the waist line, groping his ass without a lot of finesse, and a surprised noise passed his lips against the skin he was kissing. Under his fingers, he had found some tell-tale slickness.

Obi-Wan laughed at his surprise.

“I know you,” he said with fondness, “Inspecting your new ship, really?”  He kissed his lover’s full lips, nibbling on the lover lips.

“I know how much you whished for it, for that transfer. And how success makes you horny,” He added, then he kissed him again, deep and passionate.

“Swear you didn’t do anything because you knew I wanted it?” Odd Ball asked.

“I swear on the Force. It’s all on you, this promotion. You know I don’t touch transfers, promotions, anything, except in urgent situations like Dogma. That would be improper. Cody transferred you, because you’re one hell of a pilot.”

Odd Ball pushed his thumb against his lover’s opening, making him whine.

“So you opened yourself quickly before responding to my comm because you knew we would end like that…Or you whished for it?”

“I always wish for you.”

“You adorable minx.”

The next kiss was hungry, fingers pressing harder on skin, exploring what they could, as desire flared higher.

They weren’t in a good situation for long foreplay or romantic hours of lovemaking.

It wasn’t a problem. Sometimes, it was perfect just like that, half dressed, in an uncomfortable position, Obi-Wan fucking himself open on the dick of his lover. He had used lube on himself before meeting Odd Ball in the hangar, but had just opened himself as quick as possible and now he was just prepared enough to be sure it was enjoyable, just the good side of a burn. Every minute put them at risk of discovery and it was good, perfect, that cock that pushed inside him, forcing him open. He was panting against his lover’s mouth, smiling between half-kisses.

“Just like that,” Odd Ball whispered, “Just like that, cyare. Take it, take my cock. So tight, so warm.” He guided his lover, his hands hard on his hips, the rhythm slow and deep. The position offered that pale throat to his mouth and he covered it in kisses and bites, savouring how his lover trembled in his arms.

Every time the clone went to the hilt inside him, Obi-Wan moaned softly. He went with the flow but never tried to take charge, happy to be filled on the rhythm his lover choose.

“Is that a good luck charm? For pilots? ” Obi-Wan murmured, as his lover started to push them quicker.

“Yes, it is,” Odd Ball whispered, sweat beginning to pool at the base of his throat, “every ship should start its life with something like that,” and he put more force in his thrusts, earning a choked yell as reward.

“Oh kriff me,” Obi-Wan begged.

“With pleasure, sir,” Odd Ball smirked, and no more words were exchanged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On another note, if you have favorite clones, now is the moment to name them. I don't swear I will use them, as I haven't read all the comics/novels about the clone wars, but the ones in the show really have a chance, and for the other, you'll never know if you don't suggest them!


	9. Obi-Wan Rex

When they escaped the slave camps of Kavado, the first thing Rex did was showering. Warm water beating down his tired muscles, chasing away the tension, washing away at the same time the grim and the helplessness.

His brothers and most of the Jedi were still busy handling the mess of the day, and he needed that time alone to put his head back into the game. Also to convince his hands to stop shaking. They didn’t during all the time they spend there, they didn’t when he killed Agruss, but now it was like everything was playing on repeat in his head.

He abandoned his idea about a marathon shower and dressed in his black. He wanted to start on his report, even with the exhaustion. Sleep now would only bring nightmares.

When he left the shower area, Obi-Wan was clearly waiting for him, sitting on a bench between lockers. He had cleaned up somewhere in the last hour, and seeing him in the familiar environment made Rex realized Obi-Wan had lost even more weight that he thought.

“Captain,” the Jedi said, and his eyes were busy examining Rex. The soldier knew what he was searching. Injuries. Traces of what had happened, because they couldn’t be the same, not after that. Adrenaline was still running into Rex’ system, he needed something to burn it, so he did what he never did on Zygerria, for fear of Skywalker or Ahsoka, or later a guard, seeing.

He kissed the Jedi.

The kiss was horribly messy. Their teeth clicked painfully and Obi-Wan’s beard, usually casually groomed with products that made it soft, scratched Rex’s lips and skin. The Jedi had a sound of almost protest when Rex, overeager, adrenaline pounding, tightened his fingers almost too hard in his hair.

Rex’s hands found their way under his tunics easily. Jedi’s clothes were designed to be recognizable everywhere in the galaxy and adaptable to the maximum of species and body type, not to undergo an attack against the Jedi’s virtue. Obi-Wan’s belly skin was hot under his fingers, with there and there, the sensation of a scar, the skin’s texture different. The Jedi exhaled sharply when Rex stopped kissing him to press bites against his throat.

“Do you want me to stop?” Rex asked, his lips still brushing against Obi-Wan’s Adam apple, because in his arms, his lover was strangely stiff, like he hadn’t been any time before. Even in the slave camps, when they kept each other warm in sleeping next to each other, entwined to try stave off the cold, as Obi-Wan had given both their thin blankets to young slaves.

Obi-Wan shifted, hesitated, and for a second Rex thought it would stop there, then Obi-Wan closed the distance between their mouths again, capturing his lips with his own. Rex didn’t waste the invitation. He pressed that kiss deeper, cradling Obi-Wan’s head between his hands, devouring his mouth.

No questions. No bad memories. Just for a few minutes, nothing more complicated than the pull of desire and the warmth of the other.

He pushed and Obi-Wan obeyed, following his lead until Rex could pin him against one of the lockers. The gasp of Obi-Wan as their bodies pressed closer only made him hungry for more. He slipped his thigh between the other’s legs, pressing it against Obi-Wan’s cock. It was hard, hard for him. The red head offered him another of those gasps that inflamed Rex, coming alive against him, squirming deliciously against the strength of his hold, without really trying to break it, hips jerking helplessly in answer to Rex’s movements.

A hand, shy first then quickly more curious, explored the curve of Rex’s ass.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whimpered, “Yes, Rex, yes,” And Rex only answered with kisses, scattered across his lips, his throat.

They pushed against each other. It was messy, unrefined. Obi-Wan’s hands dug into his ass, encouraging his thrusts. They had stopped kissing, panting against each other’s mouth. Their cocks slid against each other. It was almost painful with the seams of the black and Obi-Wan’s leggings, but Rex didn’t let that stop them.

It was nothing like the long hours of hyperspace when they luxuriated in each other bodies, or when Rex and his brothers playfully competed to see who would wring the most interesting sounds of their lover. It was hard, standing against lockers, and Obi-Wan’s back would probably be painful later; but still Obi-Wan arched down against him, wordlessly asking for more, and Rex growled, biting the side of his jaw and pushing harder, almost frantic.

He came first but Obi-Wan wasn’t long behind, and they stood there, panting, the solidity of the lockers behind them the only thing keeping them upright.

“We’re disgusting,” Obi-Wan protested after a few seconds, and Rex identified the feeling in his belly as amusement. Obi-Wan could be covered in the vode’ seed and love it, but coming in his pants was apparently “ _uncivilized_ ”.

Rex stripped them down efficiently and guided the Jedi to the showers. Naked, the signs of that mission were even more obvious on them, but the post coital hormones made that for a few minutes, it was unimportant.

This time, the shower was long. This time, they were gentle with each other, slow and cautious.

And, for a moment, the memories of the whips went away.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr under the same username, come and say hi!


End file.
